


time enough for sarcasm

by notveryhandy



Category: Doctor Who, Gallifrey (Big Finish Audio)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-16
Updated: 2020-08-16
Packaged: 2021-03-06 01:08:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,263
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25924915
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/notveryhandy/pseuds/notveryhandy
Summary: Leela runs into an old friend, too early. Set just after Enemy Lines, but no real spoilers.
Relationships: Leela & Romana I
Kudos: 5





	time enough for sarcasm

The first time Leela used a transmat (“Don’t trust the  savage  with anything!”, countless Time Lords had probably cried), she landed in the middle of an Earth fireplace in 78 CE. Leela slowed down pretty quickly after that. 

On the other hand, Romana’s plans didn’t slow down, and nor did Narvin’s. Whereas Narvin had so many plans simply for the sake of efficiency, Romana’s were long, winding and generally gave up halfway through. The minute she ran off track with one idea, she’d jump to another, sometimes forgetting entirely to tell anyone that and leaving half the CIA with a permanent headache.

Today’s objective was simple: disable the scrambler a Free Time agent had placed within the domains of another temporal power. Unfortunately, a Tardis would be put off by the scrambler, so transmat it was. It only scrambled complex time travel devices, not simple space travel.

Then again, as Leela found out, the Time Lords has apparently added a (cheap and nasty) time travel function to her trusty travel device.

She was, to say the least, unimpressed. 

* * *

Leela landed on an unknown planet with nothing but her knife, her (now smoking) transmat and several cuts from shrapnel. Clearly the scrambler had thrown her off course as well.

From what she could make out, at least amidst all the dust she’d sent flying up, this was some sort of base. Medical? Military? Impossible to tell. It looked like it might be abandoned, what with the floor being all covered in sand, and the dry, cracked walls.

She brushed a hand past one of them, and it came back covered in flakes of paint. 

Before she could make any plans, the transmat caught fire, its archaic design finally sputtering out and giving up. “Why did you have to do that, stupid machine?” From her experience, most machines were stupid, but that was besides the point.

“Now who are you calling a stupid machine?” A voice she vaguely recognised broke the once again settling silence.

Leela jumped.

Embarrassing.

* * *

The dust once again went up in clouds, and she waved her hands through the air in a more or less useless attempt to clear it. 

The stranger stepped closer, features coming into focus. Blue eyes, dark hair, about as tall as Romana. Leela couldn’t put a name to her, and yet she was achingly familiar. “Hello? I’m sorry, I was under the impression that this place was empty.”

Leela sniffed. “So was I.”

“Not very wordy, are you? Now, let’s see... human, at a guess. You don’t wear any human clothes I’ve ever heard of, though.”

“I am-” Leela paused. Was it really a good idea to reveal herself so quickly? On the other hand, who else would she introduce herself as? “It does not matter.”

“I rather think it does. See, I’m looking for the Key to Time. Unfortunately, on my way there I lost my companion.”

A speaker crackled to life, an indignant voice coming out. “You? Lost  me?  How dare- I’m sorry,  companion?  This is ridiculous! I’m the D...” It trailed off as the woman in front of her shoved the communicator back into her jacket.

“I recognise that voice. That is the Doctor, is it not?”

She narrowed her eyes suspiciously. “How do you know who the Doctor is?”

“I met him!”

“I pity you.”

“What is your name? We are getting nowhere,” Leela said.

“...Fred. Yes. Actually call me what I asked for for once, would you? Nobody else ever does.”

Leela stared. “You are a strange person indeed.”

“Thank you, that’s exactly what I’ve always aimed for,” Fred snapped. 

Sarcastically, as if things weren’t bad enough already.

* * *

Now that she’d had time to slow down and observe, Leela was far less on edge. ‘Fred,’ whilst arrogant and uptight, was no worse than any Time Lord she’d met before. In fact, she was a minor improvement. Only  minor , though, mind you.

Still, there was something about this Fred that she didn’t like. And if only she could remember! What was it she was trying to think of? Leela considered calling Narvin, and then remembered she’d stabbed her communicator after three sleepless nights in a row.

“Right,” said Fred.

“What does that mean?”

“It  means  you might want to get going, unless you fancy being arrested by desert guards.”

“Desert guards?”

“Well what on Gallifrey do you think I was running away from?”

“I was not aware you were running at all.” So she was a Time Lord. That wasn’t actually that helpful.

“I was. Have you seen a... oh, how do I describe it? A blue box, lots of white windows. Not that you look like you’d understand.” A Tardis. And an insult. 

“You think I am a savage?”

“Either that or a fool, you ask far too many questions.”

Leela recoiled; she had thought this stranger Fred might be better than the average Time Lord, and so to hear confirmation of her fears was like a slap in the face and then a kick in the gut for good measure.

Something of a memory stirred within her, pertaining to the Matrix and to Pandora. “Romana!”

“I’m sorry?”

“You are, you are Romana. The younger one! Romana -  my  Romana - said so!”

* * *

Romana dragged her into the remainders of a cupboard. “How do you know my name, when I didn’t tell you?”

“It is the timelines, is it not?”

“Oh, it’s always the timelines, isn’t it.” There was no question. Of course it was. How could Leela possibly have missed that. Stupid little human.

(Leela didn’t like this version of Romana, the one who still held onto Gallifrey’s stagnant customs and notions of superiority. It was immensely frustrating, seeing her friend, her wife so close and yet so far.)

“I do not appreciate you.”

Romana opened a different door to the one she’d just pulled Leela through with an unnecessary amount of force, nearly pulling it off its hinges. “Oh, the feeling’s mutual.”

Leela stepped out of the cupboard and into the desert. So this was a secret exit from the building. This Romana was at least cunning, she could give her that.

And pretty, to the point of unfairness. Surely it wasn’t legal to simply be that attractive with no warrant.

* * *

Romana didn’t come out.

Leela waited for some painfully long amount of time, knife ready to be unsheathed, but nobody came.

The triple suns in the sky began to set, painting the planet various hues of red Leela couldn’t name, but nobody came.

Had it been her Romana, she would have been panicking. As it was, well, she was admittedly a little concerned, but that Romana probably didn’t care about her, so what did it matter?

Apprehensive, and more than a little fearful, she retraced her steps.

Before she could get far, there was a hand over her mouth, someone hitting her head far too hard, and then nothing.

* * *

“Why are you... staring...” Leela trailed off, too deep in the haze of near-consciousness to form a proper sentence.

“Oh, am I? I really hadn’t noticed.” This Romana was so scathing and sarcastic it was impossible to tell if anything she said was serious or just a cutting remark for the sake of sarcasm.

Leela shoved Romana out of her way, only mostly sorry. “Not... wha’s going on?”

“Well, you’re busy ignoring me, and I’m busy plotting my escape.”

“ Why  do I love you?” Leela muttered into the wall she’d woken up against. “I do not remember, sometimes.”

“Remember what?” Romana raised an eyebrow. Not a talent she retained when regenerating, then. Her Romana could barely keep a straight face doing it.

“It is irrelevant.”

“I expect so. Now, do you want to help me outwit the guards, or are you going to sit there like the hopelessly ineffective savage you are?”

“Your pep talks are as rubbish as always,” Leela said.

“Funnily enough, the Doctor says exactly the same. What is a pep talk, anyway?”

“I am not entirely sure.”

“Clueless as well? You just get better and better.”

“Are you  trying  to make me stab you?”

Romana shook her head, and pulled a hairband out her probably bigger on the inside pockets, tying her hair into a bun with a few swift motions. It suited her.

Leela nearly choked, and really Romana was always cute but this was just cruel. How was she meant to cope with her friend being so beautiful? It was just mean.

* * *

“I have a plan!”

Leela looked up. “Your last plan involved me killing you to induce regeneration, blowing apart our prison cell.”

“Well, it  would  get us out.”

“You are correct,” Leela admitted, “but why is suicide always your answer?”

“Why not?”

Leela made a mental note to find Romana a therapist when she got back. “In this case, would that not rewrite a lot of timelines?”

“Ah. There is that.”

“Yes.”

Romana moved on swiftly. “Well, I could call the Doctor and sacrifice them instead?”

“I wish.”

“Timelines again, is it? Terrible.”

“They are supposed to be essential to the fabric of the-”

“Dull, dull, dull. I hated those lessons, I never could pay attention. Well, moving on,” Romana said. “I think we-”

“I have an idea.”

Romana looked, aghast, and then looked again, as if to make sure she was hearing right. 

“I am not joking! Romana, one day you will be my closest,” Leela paused to think.

“Closest what?”

“It does not matter. Let us escape.”

“Alright then. It had better be good.”

It was.

* * *

Leela had mostly decided to leave this Romana alone after sitting through thirteen different methods of sacrificing herself to escape this planet, and thought maybe it might be a better idea to just call the (now hopelessly lost) Doctor.

Even if the Doctor was lost, that didn’t mean their Tardis was; Romana had mentioned locating the Tardis somewhere in her constant stream of sarcasm. She had also mentioned electric sheep, so Leela wasn’t sure this was the best plan.

Romana worked differently to how she was used to; whereas the older Romana would at the very least listen to Leela, this one barely payed attention to even her own words.

She also moved and spoke (and presumably thought) differently to her Romana; not trailing off the minute she reached the end of an idea but instead jumping to conclusions the instant they presented themselves. In contrast to her Romana, who never finished anything, she seemed bent on getting everything over and done with.

“Well,” said Romana, “are you going to explain to me exactly who you are? Or how you got here?”

“No.”

“Charmed, I’m sure. Who are you? You never did tell me your name.”

“Leela,” she said tersely, sure something would go horribly wrong. “Of the Sevateem.”

“A barbarian. How quaint.”

Leela was beginning to think Romana’s nose looked disappointingly unbroken, and could use with a helping hand.

* * *

“Where are we going?”

“I don’t know about you, but  I’m  aiming to cross this desert and bring down this desert dictatorship. The rebels are on the other side of the boundary between here and the plains.”

“Ah.” Now Leela had even  less  of a clue what was going on.

Romana ducked down next to a bush, and hid in the rocky outcrop provided. “I thought this was meant to be a desert!” Leela started, until Romana glared at her.

“Shush, the next patrol of desert guards is coming.” Leela nodded and dropped down besides her. Being in such close proximity was bizarre in contrast to how distant Romana was - or felt, at any rate. She could easily reach over and take Romana’s hand, but for her (eventual) friend it would mean no more than a handshake.

It was the most truly isolated Leela had felt in years.

It wasn’t something she wanted to repeat, either.

* * *

The guards passed. Eventually. Romana stood up and beckoned to keep moving; Leela nodded in kind, not exactly welcoming but certainly confident in trusting this not-really-a-stranger-anymore. Romana accidentally brushed into her once or twice, and stubbornly refused to admit she had, ignoring once again how little distance there was between the two of them.

“I vote,” Romana began, “that I sacrifice myself and you sneak in to depose the king.”

“And I vote that you let me stab some sense into you! No, Romana. You will  not  die, not even to regenerate. You cannot, you understand?”

“Oh, alright then. I suppose. You go in first, then, and... oh, I don’t know. Death threats aren’t exactly my style.”

Leela was tempted to point out that death wishes were, but decided against it.

* * *

Leela crept through the winding corridors, watching as shadows rose and fell in the fading light. The marble corridors grew colder, the gems set in the walls became freezing to the touch. She ducked through archways and sped up stairways, until reaching past the labyrinthine rooms into a surprisingly empty throne room.

And of course, Romana. Who never listened. Romana, talking at first calmly and then increasingly angrily to a man seated on what Leela supposed was a throne.

Narvin had mentioned Earth materials once; this one looked something like wood, mahogany or ebony or something similarly dark and lonely.  A little, she thought sadly,  like Romana.

Romana acknowledged her, but only out of the corner of her eye. She could hold her own for now.

Leela traced a path towards the king, but carefully, carefully. If the CIA had taught her anything it was patience. (They had not taught Romana patience, and likely never would succeed, anyway.) She pulled out her knife and pressed it against the king’s throat quietly.

“Hello, my lord,” she said as sarcastically as possible. “Do you have any requests before your death?”

* * *

“You can’t win,” he hissed. “You  won’t. ”

“And why not?” Romana asked, little more than a background noise to Leela and yet speaking as clearly as any other person.

“You will die! I will die! We are all going to die!”

“That’s not an answer.” Romana walked or, if you were being pretentious (which she definitely was) sashayed right over to him, staring him in the face. “Elaborate, why don’t you?”

He jerked his head up and laughed, even as Leela’s knife grazed his skin, which started to bleed, “The rift is opening. You can’t stop it. I can’t stop it. The only solution is sacrifices! Appease the gods!”

“Sacrifices?” Leela looked at Romana. “What are you not telling me about this place?”

“I... I assumed you knew. You mentioned, earlier, you are a CIA agent? Hard to believe, given your status, but you don’t seem like the type to lie.” Romana paused. “At least, I hope you’re not.”

“Romana, you are not answering me! Please, what is this place?”

“Rift planet. A world spat out of a different dimension and left hanging just above certain doom. Or oblivion, if you’re feeling particularly bleak. Your scrambler that you’re looking for, it’s nowhere near here. It just locked in on here because of the interference from the rift.”

“I did not know this.”

“Well, you do now.” She turned back to the king. “See, that human is clever. You are not.  You  are power-hungry, corrupt, and dying. A miserable combination. I’ve half a mind to simply toss you into the rift and stabilise your planet, but that might well make things worse.”

“So what do we do?” asked Leela. “Do you have an idea?”

“No,” she admitted. Leela groaned. “It’s not that simple, you know. I’d have to- well. All that really needs to be done is siphoning off the excess surged of energy. It’s close enough to exposing yourself to the Time Vortex, I might just be able to survive it.”

“You cannot regenerate!  How  many times must I remind you?”

“I wouldn’t regenerate. Possibly I’d be badly hurt, but not  dead. ”

“I do not trust you, you are not the Romana I know.”

“If that is so, then why don’t you leave and let me sort out these problems myself?”

“No! I stay here with you, you will not do something stupid and reckless, you will get out alive!”

“Then let me do this.”

* * *

“Alone?”

“It would kill you, given half the chance. Of course it will be alone.”

“I will dispose of this man, then.” She punched the king hard, knocking him out.

“If you wish, Leela.” Romana gave a half-smile of acknowledgement - that in itself was an accomplishment. “Now go.”

She left, leaving the rift to open and Romana to do her side of the dirty work.

* * *

She returned when the screaming started. 

Romana slumped to the ground, blood trickling down the side of her face. She was cold. That was normal for Time Lords, but she was  too  cold - and at any rate, she was barely breathing. Leela shook her by the shoulders, but she only groaned in pain. “Romana-” She tried not to choke. “Romana!”

“Romana!” she nearly screamed, because this was in the end still her friend and still the person she’d nearly lost far too many times, regardless of the face she wore. If this went wrong, if Romana died - or worse, regenerated here - what might happen?

“Romana, wake up,  please. ” It was the closest she’d ever come to begging, which was not the warrior’s way. Romana’s eyes opened just slightly, and for a split second the timelines hung completely in the balance, about to shatter and collapse. 

Romana caught only fragments, of a flash of dark hair whirling in the wind, a woman in the President’s robes screaming, something that looked suspiciously like the Matrix exploding. Worlds rising and falling, Gallifrey on fire and choking her viciously with the scent of frayed realities.

And then they all crashed together, overloading her mind with clashing existences that shouldn’t quite be.

Then, at last, an almost painful silence.

Romana collapsed, utterly helpless at the onslaught of Time.

* * *

“Narvin? You found me?”

“Indeed. So, it seems, did the Doctor.” He glared at that. “How I wish he hadn’t.”

The Doctor stepped out their Tardis. It was odd to see him again, after so long. So very long.

“Wait,” Leela began. “Will they need a-”

“Memory wipe? The Doctor, no. Romana? Absolutely. It’s not going to pleasant, I warn you.”

“Surely the Doctor will need a memory wipe if he sees me?”

“Oh, don’t worry.” Narvin fired his staser at the Doctor. “He won’t.” Stomping over to the Doctor, he then kicked them for good measure. “Thanks for nothing, by the way.”

“I should leave now..” 

“Yes, I think that might be for the best.” 

“Wait one minute,” Leela said. “I have one last task to do.”

* * *

She paused in front of Romana’s unconscious body. “Goodbye, for now. It will be a long time until you see me again, I am afraid. But I will remember you. Always. You were not my Romana, but you were Romana nonetheless. I was too bitter, though you will not know that.”

She laughed sourly. It didn’t matter what she said; Romana would never know. Then again, that meant she could do whatever she liked. “I will leave you with a parting gift, then. A piece of me to remember, even if you do not know what it is you recall.” She pressed a silver necklace into Romana’s hand, and wiped the grime off Romana’s face.

Leela buried her face in Romana’s chest, just this once, and then turned around and left for good.

“You forget, but I do not. And that is enough for me. Goodbye,” she whispered.

Goodbye.


End file.
